


Good People go to Heaven

by Real_Life_Eeyore



Series: The Howling Commandos and Captain America [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sad Ending, World War II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 10:57:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19744303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Real_Life_Eeyore/pseuds/Real_Life_Eeyore
Summary: Barnes and Rogers had gone up to heaven and left the rest of them to rot in hell. Dugan might not be a good christian man but he damn well wanted to believe that some sort of heaven existed. Anything other then hell would be nice. Some people get their happy endings, but from what he’s seen most don’t. Maybe Barnes and Rogers didn’t get theirs but he was damn sure that they deserved one.The Howling Commandos without Captain America





	Good People go to Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> This definitely isn't my best work but I had fun writing it so I hope that you guys like it.

The moment that Barnes died was the moment that something inside of Rogers broke. 

Dugan had known that Barnes was dead the second he saw Jones, Rogers, and Zola trudge through the snow and back to where the rest of them were waiting. Jones, Rogers, and Zola but no Barnes. 

Rogers was shaking like a leaf as he collapsed down into the snow. It was bizarre to see such a big man, america's golden boy, crying in the snow. And they weren’t just little tears, he was full on sobbing. Tears and snot mixed on Rogers face and one hand was clutched over his chest like he couldn’t breathe. Gasping breaths escaped his parted lips and Dugan had seen a lot of shit since the war started but he’d never seen a supersoldier reduced to a blubbering mess.

Jones had been the one to finally say that “Sergeant Barnes is dead”. Moritia had been the one to pull Rogers to his feet a practically drag him back to camp. Dugan had been the one to sock Zola in the jaw. The fat little scientist had been on his in the snow with handcuffs around his vile little wrists.

Looking back Zola was the reason for all this. He could blame the war for claiming the life of Sergeant Barnes but the war is not a person, and Zola was right there in front of him. 

The next week was spent tiptoeing around Captain Rogers. It seemed as if any sudden noise would shatter the already broken man. A week after that they knew something had to be done and Dugan was the one to do it. 

He found Rogers in his tent, red eyed and surrounded by empty bottles. 

“Get up”Dugan didn’t know what to say, he just knew that he couldn’t let Rogers drink away his life. Hell the man couldn’t even get drunk but he was damn determined to try. “I said get up” Dugan raised his voice when Rogers didn’t react. “Barnes wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.” It was like shooting a tank of gasoline.

“You don’t tell me what he would want!” Rogers jerked up from the table, causing it to wobble and glass bottles to go crashing to the ground. “Don’t fuckin know him. None of you know anything about him.” Rogers screaming quickly dissipated into muttering, as he paced the tent whilst talking to himself. 

“Maybe you're right. I didn’t know him like you did but I know that he wouldn’t want you to waste your life just because he’s not here. You want to kill every member of Hydra? Good do it, but don’t just sit here like a useless sack of meat. You’re better than that Rogers.”

An hour later they were sitting around a table, maps spread out in front of them. 

“ So what are we supposed to do? I mean, it's not like we can just knock on the front door.” Morita asked.

“Why not? That's exactly what we're gonna do.” Rogers interjected. HIs voice was completely devoid of emotion but Dugan could see that his eyes were red and brimmed with tears.  
That was the day that Captain America died but Dugan thought that Steve Rogers was dead long before that. Maybe him and Sarge just couldn’t live without each other, one went and the other followed. 

The war was over but it had taken two members of his team with it. So he did what any other soldier would do. He drank. They all did, sitting in a bar surrounded by laughter but with a cloud of misery hanging over them.

Nearby someone popper a champagne bottle but the only thing Dugan could taste was whiskey. It burned the back of his throat and his nostrils but it felt familiar. It reminded him of his days in the circus, getting drunk with all the other freaks. Except now he was surrounded by his friends, the people that he trusted with his life.

Joyous screams filled the air as people celebrated the end of the war. A man in a soldiers uniform kissed a woman in a dark blue dress. 

If he squinted hard enough it was almost as if they were back in that bar after Azzano, with bellies full of beer as the sang. God What Dugan wouldn’t do to have those days back.  
Sarge had been at that bar, so had the Captain. Dugan remembered looking at Barnes and thinking about just how fucked up that kid was. He was real sick in the cells, a total mess on the way back, but here he was-drinking and laughing with the rest of them. His face might’ve been covered in stubble and he was wearing the same shit stained uniform but still he was smiling. 

Dugan had never been good at reading people but it didn’t take a physic to know that something was off. After Azzano and whatever that “doctor” had done Barnes was quieter, more reserved, and stoic. The addition of Rogers to their ragtag team certainly helped. It gave Barnes a little bit of life back. Those two were always together. 

Everything had always seemed to happen while Dugan was on watch and that cold autumn night that they had spent holed up in an abandoned barn was no exception. At first he had thought it was just some rats scurrying around but with a closer listen he could tell that someone was speaking.

“Shhh it’s alright Buck. You’re safe, I’m here.” Roger’s voice could get real quiet when he wanted it to. The only sound that followed was a muffled sob and another chorus of “it’s ok” and “don’t worry I’m here”. 

When he glanced around the corner he realized that Barnes and Rogers were both up and sitting on their bedrolls. They always slept next to each other. Barnes was enveloped in Rogers arms and shaking so bad you’d think he was gonna have another seizure. His head was turned into Rogers chest. Rogers lips were moving but Dugan couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. Then he saw something that left him speechless.

Rogers took Barnes chin in his hands and gently guided it up to meet his eyes. Barnes was crying, tears cutting through the dust on his face. Tendrils of sweaty dark hair were clinging to his skin. Rogers brushed the hair off of Barnes forehead and planted a gentle kiss right there.

He hadn’t mentioned it the next morning, or ever but really some part of him had always known about them. Before Azzano Barnes kept getting letters from who they’d all assumed was his girl. Rogers showed up and poof-no more letters. When the kid was laying in the cells, sick and nearly dead he kept whispering about him. He kept asking and begging For Steve to come and save him. Steve Rogers did rescue him, but not before Zola ran fire through his veins. 

“To the Captain.” A somber toast pulled him from his memories as he raised his half full glass of whiskey. 

It wasn’t fucking fair. Sarge died then Rogers just had to lose his goddamn mind and get himself killed too. Didn’t he realize that the world still needed a hero? Then Dugan started laughing because he was demanding an answer from a dead man. How bad have things gotten for him to hate a body that would probably never even be recovered? Instead he decided to direct his hate at a living man. 

Zola, that stupid mad scientist was the reason for all this. Zola was the one that tortured Barnes. Zola was the reason for the goddamn train mission that got Barnes killed in the middle of a goddamn ravine. Barnes dying was the reason Rogers crashed a plane into the fucking ocean.

His ma had told him that good people went to heaven. What did she know though? She drank herself into an early grave when Dugan was just nine year old. 

Barnes was a good person, Dugan was sure of at least that much. Rogers was practically a saint, at least in the eyes of the public who’d raised him up on a pedestal. Hell in the eyes of the American People they were all a bunch of heroes. Well now they were a bunch of heroes sitting around a table and drinking to forget.

Barnes and Rogers had gone up to heaven and left the rest of them to rot in hell. Dugan might not be a good christian man but he damn well wanted to believe that some sort of heaven existed. Anything other then this hell would be nice. Some people get their happy endings, but from what he’s seen most don’t. Maybe Barnes and Rogers didn’t get theirs but he was damn sure that they deserved one.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm probably going to write one more work in this series but I have no idea when I'll post it.


End file.
